Blood of my Brother

Start of the Journey

Trigger warnings: panic attacks, mentions of violent injuries, nightmare

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"...So then he says to me, 'That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard. Make Adira do it!'"

"He did not!"

"Did too. Your dad was like that. Always insulting the amazing plans we made and trying to 'fix' them."

"Did it work?"

"...Usually, yes. Anyway, then Adira says, 'why should I do it? This was all Hector's idea!' Ad Quirin says, 'Well, weren't you the one bragging five minutes ago how you were the most agile out of all of us?'"

They had been traveling for several hours, with Hector regaling Varian with tales of the Brotherhood. The three had been troublemakers in their youth, apparently. Varian was in awe at the contrast the stories presented between Quirin of the Brotherhood and the father he thought he knew. Throughout the stories, though, he could still see the same calm, collected figure who had been there his entire life. Time may have changed him some, but not completely.

The current story was a narrative of a time Hector had been captured by bandits as a child, and Adira and Quirin had decided to go after him themselves instead of getting the adults to help. As Varian listened to how Quirin had recklessly thrown himself at a man twice his size when he saw Hector's injuries, he couldn't help but wonder what his dad would have thought of the way he was treated in prison. He had always staunchly defended Varian, even if he was constantly disappointed in him. The alchemist had always known he was safe as long as Quirin was around. But for the worst days of Varian's life, he had been gone. And it was Varian's fault.

He blinked away tears and tried to focus on the story. Ruddiger, who sat in front of Varian on Kiki's back, curled around Varian's right hand comfortingly. The alchemist smiled. He had missed his friend. He couldn't pet him right now—his hand was gripping Kiki's fur tightly to keep from being thrown off, and his left arm was in a sling—but he refused to be separated from him. He had already apologized profusely for getting Ruddiger involved in the first place.

Being separated from Ruddiger was one of the worst things they had done to him. He had been scared and alone, and they had taken the only friend he had left from him. It wasn't enough that he no longer had his dad. No, they just had to make it worse. Ruddiger had been there to help stave off the nightmares that plagued him. He had been there to remind Varian to eat and sleep and drink water. During Quirin's absence, Ruddiger had stepped up to take responsibility for the distracted alchemist. And they had taken him away and left Varian to suffer the nightmares alone, to fall into the darkness of his mind that reflected the darkness of his cell.

He had no way of knowing what would have happened to him if Hector had not rescued him. The never-ending agony had threatened to shatter his mind, and the guards had promised to shatter his body. Without the luxury of a trial, he had no clue what they were planning to do with him. Would they have left him forever in that hole, tormenting him at their whim, or would he have eventually been given the sweet release of death?

He was distracted by his thoughts and almost failed to notice when the bearcats slowed to a stop at the crest of a hill. He looked over at Hector questioningly.

"There's a town just past here. Vardaros, I think it's called. Coronans usually don't come out this far, not even the guards. It would take them almost a week, so we should be safe to spend the night. If you don't want to risk it, we can camp out again."

Varian considered the question. "Is it safe?"

"It's Vardaros. The answer is no. But you've got me with you, so you'll be fine."